The Woman In Black
by ShiroHichi891
Summary: Watching and waiting in the shadows of his world, a dark figure lurks with only care that concern. An orange headed boy with locks of orange gold. That is her target; the one she will control. Plaguing his life, every aspect of his thoughts, she follows his trail, only one step apart. What she wants is unknown, but she always comes back. The spectra of darkness. The woman in black.


****This chapter has been edited 2/1/13****

**Summary: Watching and waiting in the shadows of his world, a dark figure lurks with only one care that concerns. A bright headed boy with locks of orange gold. That is her target; the one she will control. Plaguing his life – every aspect of his thoughts – she follows his trail, only one step apart. What she wants is unknown, but she always comes back. The spectra of darkness. The woman in black.**

**A/N: The premise for this story is inspired by GGCharms and all credit goes to her for coming up with the idea first. I'm just writing out whatever my brain can concoct from there. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Bleach anime, manga, or the movie **_**The Woman In Black**_**, just my ideas and the little plushies in my room.**

**Text Key:** "Blah blah blah" – Regular speech

'_Blah blah blah'_ – Character thoughts

X-X-X-X-X

He felt like he was going mad. He probably was with everything that had been happening to him as of late. Nothing made sense to him anymore. There were only random facts and occurrences beginning and ending around him as usual, but he was incapable of comprehending any of it. He had not been able to for quite some time now. All that he was able to understand at the moment was the fear that gripped his heart and the pain he was suffering through that could only be described as completely and utterly _unbearable_. Having parts of yourself slowly ripped away from you piece by piece against your will, being unable to do anything about it but pray for an end.

He sat propped up against a dark corner in an alleyway. His body shook with the simple effort of breathing. In and out. In and out. The chilled air that filled the night bite ravenously at his exposed skin, causing shivers to periodically travel through his prone and weakened form.

With eyes partially open and slightly glazed over, he stared ahead blankly, gazing at the dirtied ground in front of him through his matted, plastered hair. He did not have any conscious thought as to what he was doing; he had absolutely no energy to do so. All of it had been stolen or depleted in his efforts to get away and fight back at the demon plaguing him.

The insatiable nightmare followed him no matter where he went, always hovering in the shadows waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. He constantly felt the need to look over his shoulder every two seconds to make sure that _it_ was not there. But never did he feel any relief to usually find no one behind him. Even now he felt that need to check around the area despite how he would only be met with the chipping brick walls.

The others had tried to help as best as they could. They had done everything in their powers to do all they could think of, racking their brains for new ideas that could have any possible chance of working on his unfortunate predicament. But none of it did any good. All of their efforts went to waste against _it_, never having the opportunity to do any good.

A fresh, unrestrained wave of pain coursed through his body that took a hold on each individual cell in his being, setting them aflame, burning every neuron that he possessed. He slid down the wall onto his side as his body convulsed, mouth open in a silent scream and eyes shut tight. This torment could only mean one thing, the one fact that he had learned over the past few weeks: _it_ was near, coming back for more. And that was what _it_ was going to get.

He had to get away. No matter what, he could not stay where he was now. But how was he going to escape? He was in no condition to move and the blinding pain he was experiencing was making him incapable of moving even a fraction of an inch without increasing the torture. He _needed_ to find a way out; some means to evacuate from where he was at now. But _how_?

He was simply going to have to maneuver past the pain if he wanted to get away before _it_ came. If he did not, then…

No. He would _not_ think about that right now. All he had to focus on was what was occurring right now and what he was going to do about it. He forced his eyes open, blurry surroundings coming into his line of sight. Grinding his teeth to the point where they might break, he moved his hands up in front of his head, preparing to push himself back up. Ready? One, two, three, go.

He began to rise from the ground in which he had fallen, grimacing as the already tremendous pain amplified, inducing him to shake more violently. But he was able to accomplish getting his upper body partially off the cold ground.

He slowly brought his knees towards his chest, managing to get onto his feet in a low crouched position with his hands planted in front for stabilization. Grabbing onto the worn wall to his side, he used any nook or crevice his long fingers could get a hold of and dragged himself upwards to stand. Now, the only task left was to walk out of the small alley he resided in.

One foot in front of the other. Left, right. Left, right. An uncomplicated pattern that was nigh impossible now. He was nonetheless getting closer to the opening and thus the main street. From there he could take one of the many paths that branched to separate parts of town. Just a few more steps and he would be free to escape. Almost…

Then, _it_ came into view from around the corner, slowly turning to face the trapped, petrified mortal. His blood had run colder than ice at the sight of the creature standing calmly, yet menacingly before him. _It_ reached out its right arm, hand pointed towards him in a lazy fashion, and made a first in an act of clenching an invisible object.

His chest erupted in pain unlike the last. The sensation of something being torn out, ripped away from where it rightfully belonged traveled through every inch of his body. This was worse than all the other previous instances, leaving all before this nothing in comparison.

Falling forward onto his front, he landed on the hard concrete, laying perfectly still as his eyes slowly clouded over while the life left them. Voices frantically screamed his name inside his head, yelling things he could barely hear despite their intense volume. They were becoming increasingly more muffled as the seconds ticked by, quieting down in synchronization with his world that was beginning to grow black.

The final thing that he saw was the devilish figure above him give a feral grin, a light cackle escaping _its_ maw before everything vanished.

X-X-X-X-X

Five Weeks Previous

Ichigo awoke to the none-too-subtle blaring noise of his alarm clock, providing the signal for him to get up for school. He slammed his hand down on top of the device, effectively silencing the incessant wailing. After a wide yawn, he sat up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pressed the palms of his hand to his eyes, rubbing the remnants of sleep still left over and took a deep breath as he rose to his feet.

He headed for the bathroom and began his routine tasks for the morning including taking a quick shower, failing to tame his unruly hair, brushing his teeth and making the occasional face in the mirror for entertainment. No matter how old someone was, that last part was always fun.

After about ten minutes, he came back into his room and opened the door of his closet, finding the blankets and futon mat neatly folded up on the side. This led him to believe that Rukia was already downstairs. Reaching into its depths, he grabbed his uniform and proceeded to get dressed. About halfway through the process, the glorious aroma of freshly made pancakes wafted to his nostrils, causing him to drool at the enticing smell. Yuzu's innocently sweet voice soon followed after, informing him that breakfast was ready.

Hastily assembling his supplies, Ichigo made his way to the lower level of the house and into the kitchen. Just as his feet stepped onto the floor, a socked foot aimed at his face sped towards his head, a psychopathically grinning Isshin following behind the appendage.

Sighing at his father's childish antics, Ichigo grabbed the offending foot in his hands and threw the owner to the floor. "Well done my son. You have improved," Isshin mumbled into the wooden boards his face was smashed against. Ichigo simply rolled his eyes and carried on to the kitchen table where Yuzu had already placed a plate of food for him.

Thanking her, he pulled out a chair across from Rukia and Karin. They ate their delicious breakfast in relative peace, having brief conversations about their plans for the day at school and in the afternoon.

It soon came time for Rukia and Ichigo to depart for school, so they gathered their things, headed out the door and began making their way to the alleged building they had to spend eight grueling hours in.

The moment Ichigo stepped out into the open, a sudden chill ran up his spine and a foreboding sense of being watched descended upon him. Immediately stopping in the walkway, he looked around, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Strange…

"Hey, Ichigo! Are you coming or what?" Rukia asked, a couple paces ahead of him, waiting impatiently with her hand on her hip, making her appear sassy.

"Yeah…" he turned back around to her expecting figure, renewing their walk. He could not rid the sensation that someone was watching him. He thought that it was most likely either a hollow or he was imagining it. But either Rukia or he should be able to sense the presence most likely - even with his abysmal skills in the area - if it was a hollow and he doubted it was all in his head. Perhaps if he ignored the odd feeling, it would go away.

The two arrived at Karakura High, entering the building with many other students. Once inside, the eerie feeling vanished, allowing Ichigo to relax temporarily. He questioned to himself why this was, but brushed it off an unimportant; something to deal with later.

The Shinigamis ascended the stairs towards their classroom where their friends were now in. They talked transiently, recollecting their mornings, previous evening and hollow activity in their sectors of town. The ring of the bell minutes later indicated for them to make their way to their designated seats.

Arriving at his spot by near the window, Ichigo waited for the teacher to arrive so that they could commence the day's drawling lessons. The exact moment that he sat down, the chilling sensation returned, causing him to shudder. Snapping his neck around to look both in and outside of the room, he was again met with nothing that he could pin the blame on. What was going on?

It continued for the remainder of the day, only ceasing when he traveled through the school corridors to reach the roof or other classes. He felt someone else's presence being pressed down on him from every side, never any difference until he left when the school day ended. It was then that it got so much worse.

On the walk home – alone since Rukia had decided to go with Orihime to her house for some "girl time" – Ichigo felt the sensation intensify exponentially. It was like the moment in battle when your opponent sneaks up from behind, striking you in the back unexpectedly.

He turned around swiftly, examining his surroundings at all possible angles. Was someone hiding their reiatsu, or was he just going crazy? He did not want to wait and find out the answer.

A frigid breath grazed his ear, making him shiver and freeze instantly to the spot. He could not move for some unknown reason, no matter how hard willed his body to follow his commands. All he managed to do was significantly widen his eyes, struggling in vain to get away as he was forced to wait for something else to transpire. A hand lightly brushed his shoulder, snapping him out of his stupor and freeing his body to move once more, and move he did.

Bolting down the empty street like the hounds of hell were on his heels, Ichigo ran, not taking one look back to see who or what was behind him. Even when his lungs felt like they would burst, he did not stop. Only when he slammed through the front door of his family's small house did he cease his sprinting. He hastily locked the door and slid down its back as exhaustion and relief washed over him in waves. He breathed heavily, taking in much needed oxygen that his muscles were demanding after the quick and unprepared for getaway.

No longer experiencing the impression that he would be attacked, Ichigo allowed himself to sigh and partially relax. Now what was bothering him was the reason for why he felt so… _scared_ at what just transpired moments ago. He had been in much more dire, life-threateningly situations before, so why was he experiencing this fear now? It was as if he instinctually knew that if he did not escape at that instance that something bad was going to happen. He felt an overwhelming sense of horror when it occurred; an element that he rarely had contact with in all his fights and other life experiences.

Forcing his nerves to calm, the shaken teen got up from his position on the floor and gingery walked – or more half-walked half-ran – to all the windows he could locate and closed the blinds, sealing himself off from the outside world. The house darkened considerably, leaving the teen in stagnant shadows. He began to feel slightly more secure than before. Running a hand through his sweat dampened orange locks, he thought that he should try to distract himself with his homework to take his mind off of all this.

Ichigo slowly ascended the stairs to his room. Turning on the light, he sat down at his desk, taking the needed books and papers from his bag. He opened the materials up to study their vast and usually uninteresting contents that the teachers all insisted they learn, quickly drifting off into his own world as his troubles gradually faded to the back of his mind.

X-X-X-X-X

The evening continued with the normal customary events, nothing significant occurring other than the local resident goat-face attempting vain efforts at surprising Ichigo with countless attacks he claimed would somehow, in his messed up brain, "Help him grow and become a man." Every confrontation ended with Isshin on the floor accompanied by various broken household items. He either congratulated his son for his achievement or groveled at the wall-sized poster of his beloved wife, Masaki, asking the large piece of laminated paper where they went wrong as fake tears ran down his cheeks in thick streams. Of course, all present ignored his antics, continuing on with their own tasks.

Earlier, the other family members had questioned the elder sibling why the house was so dark when they arrived earlier that evening. Ichigo quietly mumbled the excuse that he was beginning to develop a headache and that the light was hurting his eyes. They bought it, thankfully.

Dinner was finished and the kitchen cleaned, so Ichigo proceeded to seclude himself in his room, giving a good night to his family as he left. Not wasting time, he immediately got ready for bed, throwing on a simple pair of gray sweatpants and a loose fitting shirt before flopping ungracefully onto his welcoming sheets. The pillows and blankets embraced him in their warm confines as he situated himself in the fabric, encouraging him to sleep away everything that bothered him. With all the stress he had accumulated that day, he did not put up a protest. Instead, he agreed and let his eyelids drop over his tired eyes, falling into the blissful darkness that sleep provided.

X-X-X-X-X

In the late hours of the night, all was silent except for the subtle sounds of deep breathing. Inside the orange-headed teen's room, a sharp, biting cold descended, drastically reducing the room's temperature. Ichigo's breath became visible as he exhaled, the warm air previously residing in his lungs condensing and clouding in front of his face. His body caved in on itself under the covers, trying to compensate for the sudden change to stay warm.

A lone, dark figure, whose characteristics were not discernible through the prevailing blackness of the room, came into existence and stood beside the bed stiffly. All that could be observed from the form was that it looked extremely emaciated under its thick robe; hood obstructing the view of the face beneath.

The enigma directed its unwavering gaze at the curled up boy before it, glossy, dead eyes enduring and void of emotion. With a bony hand, the being reached towards the youth and lightly stroked his flush cheek with the tips of its fingers, whispering words barely audible.

"I've finally found you…" the creature rasped, voice laded with gleeful insanity, "Soon… soon you will be _mine_."

An intense shudder racked Ichigo's form before his eyes snapped open and he bolted up straight. Looking around with eyes drowning in terror, he searched his cold, empty room with fearful apprehension for _anything_ out of place. He once again could find nothing as his uneven, sharp breathing filled his ears. He had broken out in a cold sweat, small droplets of water falling off his body intermittently, absorbing into the sheets that were balled tightly in his firsts as his eyes continued to flash from one section of the room to the other.

The closet door slid open, causing him to jump at the sound. He quickly pressed his back against the nearest wall as he starred at the cause of the noise. Rukia's head appeared soon after, her Chappy pajamas and messy hair accompanying her ensemble. Seeing that it was only her, he calmed down slightly, albeit not by much.

"Ichigo?" she said tiredly, expelling a small yawn, "Why are you awake? Is something wrong?" Concern flashed across her features.

Directing his gaze to his wrinkled covers, Ichigo slowly shook his head, forcing himself to calm down and steady his voice, "I… I'm fine," he falsely reassured, looking up to meet her steady eyes, "Just a nightmare."

"What was it about?" the petite girl asked with sincerity.

"Nothing," he snapped quickly, "It's stupid. Just go back to bed, I'll be fine." He gave an obviously forced, shaky smile that was very out of place on his face.

Knowing that he was not going to give any more information on the matter willingly, Rukia sighed and retreated back inside her makeshift room, supplying a conformation that she would not prod any further.

Once the door snapped shut for the second time that night, Ichigo placed his head in his hands, breathing out gratingly. He lifted his head after a moment and gazed at his trembling hands as one thought coursed through his head.

'_What's wrong with me?'_

**X-X-X-X-X**

**A/N: The next chapter will be released after I have completed "Meetings Gone Wrong" in an estimated 3-4 weeks. Thanks you all for reading and I would greatly appreciate it if you would be so kind to leave a review. They help motivate and encourage me to write more. Who knows, maybe if I get enough reviews I'll update faster. Wink, wink.**


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